Let me hear you say you want it all
by princessblair
Summary: It's a sleazy strip club and everyone's waiting for just one guy. A/U slightly OOC. Extremely explicit, so be warned.


Uh, hi? This is so out of my comfort zone so I'm just going to leave it here. Also, I'd like to warn ya... this is my first attempt at male to male smut so it might be a little off (good lords I don't even know what's going on lol) just stick with me and give me any feedback if there are some areas I would need to improve on. Oh yeah, it's my first time writing at a first person POV so... was inspired by tumblr user Shynii's artwork so check their awesome art out if you have time.

The song Jean is dancing to is Gorilla by Bruno Mars.

Alright, don't let me ramble too much... enjoy!

* * *

Today's business is booming as usual. There are several patrons howling and whistling just below the makeshift stage, waving their filthy money in the air. The air smells like sweat and heavy arousal but it doesn't bother me, not even a little. The scent is thick, it is almost like a stench but I don't make a move to leave, instead I wait for _my _show.

The lights are obscure; I can hardly make out the figures of the current strippers. The spotlights may be abundant but the colors are too dark, anyone else wouldn't be able to recognize the dancers but I am not just anyone. I move closer when I spot an available table. I gesture towards the usual waiter with a quick wave of my hand, wanting a drink for my parched lips. He makes a beeline towards me with a tray in hand.

"What can I get you, sir?" His eyes look patronizing. He must be one of the new ones.

"A scotch on the rocks." I tell him and he gives me a quick nod and immediately heads for the bar. I pay no more attention as I fix my focus back on the stage. It's tackily decorated; a few fake flowers stuck with vines at the background, three stripper poles strategically placed at the middle and either sides of the stage. The strobe lights beat along with the sultry music, the strippers exaggeratedly try to catch up with both.

This isn't why I watch every day, these strippers are good but they aren't who I want.

I feel a light tap on my shoulder and I let my body respond. The waiter had brought my drink along, accompanied with an enthusiastic smile on his face as if he's waiting for me to give him a compliment. I give it, it makes them work harder.

"Thank you. You've done well." I dismiss him with another wave of my hand and he leaves me alone to watch the show.

The crowd has thickened especially now that crowd favorites had already started to dance. They rub their money furiously against the strippers' bodies, some are more eager, so the bouncers make sure they aren't too touchy. A burly man- a regular- meets my eyes. He sneers at me and I ignore him, we're both are after the same person, both of us already at our limit. I'm at an advantage, though, but he doesn't need to know that.

I take a swift swig of my drink; the familiar burn lets me out of my usual inhibitions.

_Goody two-shoes. Quiet. Push-over. Too perfect._

Maybe this is why I am here right now, to let go. I feel my tense muscles loosen up as the alcohol rides my blood; it's a cheap thrill just like this situation.

Finally the song stops and the host pads his way over to the stage. This is the good part where most of the patrons wait for. This is it, it's _him_.

"Hold yer horses er'ryboday! Let's give a warm welcome to our main attraction!" Fat Balto didn't need to introduce him as half of the crowd came here just for him. Cheers and howls wave louder than the opening of the song. I filter the sounds so I can focus on him and the rhythm.

The tacky velvet curtains spread for him.

He is never nervous, he's done this for a long time now, I know. He's wearing his favorite costume; a cheesy leather vest with nothing underneath coupled with a Stetson. His leather pants are lined at the side with frills that sway along with his every movement. My mouth dries up as he licks his thumb and trails the offending finger to his chin down to his chest and finally, to his defined abs.

Strategically, he was oiled up for the performance, giving his toned muscles more assertion by the dim lights. He scans the crowd as if he's looking for someone. Our eyes meet and he gives me a wolfish smile, in return I give him a genuine one.

He smirks at the rest of the customers; he's cocky just because he knows how hot he is. His covered hips start to sway at the music, his hands behind his neck giving us a good show of his hard work. I lift my eyes away from him to give my rival a quick glance. My rival was far too entranced by him so I shift my eyes back to _my _stripper.

His hand now trailing down to his navel, hips jutting forward with the beat, lips bitten by teeth; he should feel nervous under the intense gaze of the horn dogs screaming after him but instead he revels in it. He takes little steps forward towards the middle pole; his hips and hands dance elegantly from side to side making his walk sensuous.

Gripping the stripper pole, he hitches one of his toned legs on it and spins around while grasping his neck erotically. I had longed to touch his thick neck; his movement sends shivers up my spine. I make no attempt to hide my erection; it's bulging obnoxiously on my lap. 'Later,' I tell myself, 'It will be taken care of.'

He had now casted aside his black leather vest. He tweaks his dusky nipples a bit, and he bites his lips once more, teasing the crowd with a fake innocence. The song by now has almost reached its chorus; he rips his cowboy pants leaving him with a tiny cloth that covers his crotch. The crowd goes wild as they threw money at his feet, begging him more. He obliges.

He laces a hand on his light brown hair; the other hand ruffles his undercut which is a darker shade of brown. He lets the lights show how sculpted he is, his pectorals gleaming with oil and carefully planned lighting design, his abs tempting everyone to lick them clean and his biceps are a promise of a rowdy session. His smug smile plants itself on his mouth as people clamor to touch him only to be stopped by the bouncers.

I wanted to wipe t/he smirk off his face. I take another sip of my drink as I fish my pockets for a small oval remote.

I find it.

I stare at the little gadget in front of me; it only has a couple of buttons. Two of them are to turn it off and on, the other three are speeds. Speeds for what? I'll tell you…

I hit the 'ON' button and lock my gaze back to the performer. His smug smile has long been wiped at my command and has been replaced with a surprised look. He slowly turns his head towards my direction and I smile innocently at him together with a cute wave. I nudge my head to urge him to continue but he gives me a glower.

I press the number '2' on my remote and he jerks on stage. He doesn't like it when he is not in control and it shows. I was absolutely glowing.

Reluctantly, he grabs the pole for support; one of his legs hooks itself on it again. He puts another hand and he attempts to swing on the pole but he sighs lowly. It was quiet enough, only meant for me to hear but I knew he was far too unnerved to perform any of his usual tricks so he settles to dance to the beat.

If he was half-hard when the show had started, he was now full-blown aroused and it drove everyone mad. It was pushing too much on his flimsy 'briefs' and it had left far too little to the imagination to the point that I can almost see some gold curls pushing above them. They make my mouth water with anticipation as he palms his bulge to the song.

He turns his back on us and crouches down and sticks his firm ass up in the air. Some patrons had managed to slip some money on the cleft of his ass as he circles his hips. I could see a circular outline just above where his hole should be and I smirk to myself knowing what exactly is hidden in there. I wanted to bury myself on it while he was dancing but it wouldn't do me any good if I did.

I lower the speed to '1' and he moans in both relief and disappointment. He gets back to work, standing up and faces the audience once again. He takes three of his fingers and licks them for show, sucking them slightly as his head lolls to his shoulder. Keeping his pace with the music, he swings his hips while he pushes his fingers in and out of his mouth. I watch it, hypnotized by the movement.

I wanted more so I pressed '3' and his eyes widen for my pleasure. His hips by now had involuntarily jerked on the pole seeking friction and I knew he wouldn't be able to hold back any longer. It was far too cruel for me to deny him and torture him so I wave two fingers towards me as I catch the attention of the bouncer.

The bouncer wastes no time in reaching me and I signal him to stoop lower so I could whisper.

"Get Jean off the stage and lead him to my room." I order.

"Yes, boss." He nods and he promptly gets to work, barking orders at the DJ as well as looking for a replacement dancer for the patrons.

Jean by now was almost drooling in stage as he tries to rein his arousal, his eyes cloudy with lust. I give him another innocent smile as I leave the seedy club and climb the stairs to my room. It wouldn't take long for him to barge in, so I wait in bated breath.

True to my prediction, he stomps in the room minutes later. Jean's eyes were ablaze with both anger and lust and it was breathtaking. I don't let him complain like I would usually do; instead I attack his perfect lips with mine. His mouth opens in surprise and I push my tongue inside him, seeking some sort of way to abate my thirst earlier. He responds, pushing against my tongue in equal passion, and he laces his rough hands behind my neck pulling me closer. I trace circular patterns on his hips, hips that are solely mine to enjoy and he moans in my mouth.

He pulls away to complain.

"Marco, you can't do that. I have to earn money for a living," I rest my head on his forehead and I let him continue, "If I can't perform, I don't get money."

I chuckle at him and I let my hands weave in his hair, their silky strands tickling my palms.

"Did you forget that I own this club?" I answer. He meets my gaze and he shakes his head.

"I can't rely on you forever." He stubbornly replies. I lower my teeth on his swollen lips and nibble on them. They feel rubbery on my teeth and it's perfect.

"Did you take it out?" I change the subject. He moans at my little bites and he shakes his head once again.

"No. God, can't you hear it vibrating? It's too fast, Marco."

"I couldn't hear with all the loud music downstairs." I crouch in front of him and he let his hands fall to his sides. His clothed erection was now facing me and I lick my lips. I give him a stare.

"Turn around for me and let me see." I order. He obeys and he faces the adjacent bed, pushing his hands in front of him to bend forward. It was a delight to see, he was obeying me, bent for me, and most importantly- _hard for me._

I tug his briefs down and lift his legs one at a time to toss the cloth as farthest away as possible.

It was erotic. I could see his cock at its full length, dripping pre-cum. His balls were almost blue as he was probably too deprived from release and his ass was gaping and shaking from the vibrating anal beads.

I never knew I could be so turned on at such a dirty sight.

I tug a bit on the tiny wire protruding from the bead. Jean jerks his hips backward following the movement so I squeeze one of his ass cheeks to keep him in place. He moans lewdly.

"P-please just…" He begs but I pay him no mind. I continue to pull out the device from his hole, at the same time he tries to push himself for friction but I grip his hips. He was moving too much so I gripped him harder that was probably going to bruise by tomorrow but he doesn't seem to mind.

"Please what, Jean?" I ask. I know full well that he wouldn't be able to compose a comprehendible sentence as he was far too gone on his seek of pleasure. It doesn't mean I will play nice, though. He was too irresistible on stage and I wanted to assure myself that only I can give him what he wants.

"Mar-c… Nghhhh—" I finally pull out the last ball of the beads and I spread his ass cheeks wide so I can look at my work of art. He was dripping so much pre-cum on my carpet but I didn't mind. Not when he is spread before me, and at my bidding. I can enter him anytime and he would be gnawing for it.

I slap his ass lightly and he pushes back to look for more contact.

"Stay still or I won't let you release." I command. He obeys once again and I grab the lubricant that I usually keep in store for these moments. I lather sufficient amount of it on my fingers and I enter three of them right away. He was already prepared by the beads, I had made sure.

"Oh-" His throaty groans drown the music downstairs and it shot to my cock instantly. He grinds himself on my fingers, creating his own pace. I let him and I slap his ass once again.

"You're going to get off on my fingers." I state. He shakes his head vigorously, almost in denial-like and I smile. "Stay still then. Let me prepare you for my cock." Jean gives me another sexy moan at the sound of my cock. He grips his own to stop himself from coming right away.

Jean looks at me over his shoulder and his eyes were pleading for release.

I twist my fingers inside him once again, trying to look for the spot. I knew I had found it when his drool had hit the floor and his knuckles were white from gripping the bed too hard. He was ready and so was I.

"Lie on the bed and spread your legs."

He quickly does what I say and he watches me strip. I work on my button down shirt first, tossing it aside. I wasn't a performer like him so my movements weren't hypnotizing but the way he looked at me had made me feel like I was a piece of meat waiting to be devoured. I blush under his scrutiny and I send him a shy smile.

"Oh come on, you made me wear anal beads for my performance today and you're blushing?" He stands from his position and grabs the straps of my belt to loosen the buckles off. He throws it precariously and hurriedly pops the buttons of my trousers and pushes them down right along with my boxers. It eased some of my tension and I cradle his cheeks with my hands.

"You're too eager." I chuckle. He gives me a disdainful look.

"I'm literally leaking here. Just fuck me already," He gives me a smoldering gaze "Marco" He whispers on my ears that had my blood rush to my dick right away. I lost all my self-restraint, liking the way my name rolls off his tongue. I push him on the bed and he grins at me smugly.

I should punish him for being cheeky but instead I focus on burying myself inside him. That effectively removed any smugness on his face to be replaced with unadulterated pleasure. He arches his back to give me a better angle as I push even deeper.

"Give it to me, mother fucker." I smirk at his dirty mouth and I reach for his neck, cleaning his filthy tongue with mine. I create a steady rhythm with my hips, languidly teasing his prostate as I hit it. He protests with an unsuppressed growl and a bite on my lower lip that drew blood.

"So fucking tight, Jean." I tell him and I quicken my pace inside him. He was just as hot inside and it was driving me insane as his walls strain to take all of my cock in. Even if I had prepared him with the beads, he was still too small and I was about to ask is he was okay but the look of sheer want stopped me before I had done so. I took it as my cue to pound harder.

I latch my mouth on the juncture of his neck and shoulder, making sure I leave an angry purple mark at my wake. My hands grab both of his legs so I could get a better leverage on the position, his hole taking in more of me.

He moans and trashes wildly as I pounded into him harder, faster, faster, harder, oh yes… harder.

I answer his every whim.

I grip his raging cock, pumping my fists at the steady rhythm of my hips. Pearls of pre-cum ooze even more, and I thumb them to slick his cock. His face was contorted into sweat and animalistic need. His hands are gripping the sheets tighter to stop himself from banging his head on the head-board. I was far too crazed with pounding into him; it wasn't as if he didn't want it.

I could see the white spots of orgasm trying to make its way at the corner of my eyes. I steel myself to hold back just a little bit more, I wanted him to come first before I do. I pump my hands faster on his cock and I lift his legs higher in the air to find the angle where I hit his prostate the most. I must've found it because six seconds after, his cum is spurting on my stomach and he is screaming my name in ecstasy.

His hole squeezes me tightly as he rides his orgasm, so I welcome mine, not able to hold back any longer. The mere sight of him being undone was more than enough for me and I try to keep my eyes open to watch him orgasm as I traverse my own. It is hot, it's sweaty, it's dirty and purely primal as I spurt my cum inside him in long strings of rods. I kept on pounding into him mercilessly as he slowly goes down from his high but he watches me fuck him.

"You're mine, Jean." I say as I feel the last straws of cum spurt inside him. It dribbles down to the sheets but I was too tired to care. I catch my breath, still buried inside him, my hands on either side of his body and my torso was crushing him with my weight. He doesn't complain, instead he brushes my hair away from my face as we lock gazes. He pats the space beside him and I comply, lying down as I pull him on my chest, my arms snaking underneath his neck.

He places little open-mouthed kisses on the freckles that litter my shoulders and I sigh contentedly at his actions. The way he kissed them was loving and I wouldn't want it any other way.

"Jean?" I stare at the ceiling.

"Hmmm?" He asks lazily, his hands coiling around my waist as he prepares to sleep.

"I don't want you to strip anymore." I tell him honestly. His sharp gasp doesn't surprise me.

"Bu-but—"

"I'll buy you out." I tell him decisively and I let my sleep take me away from my perfect reality.

* * *

TBH, I still don't know if I should be sorry or not. Reviews make my day and since I might've ruined yours, make mine better :D


End file.
